Angel in Hospital Clothes
by Is-Really-Betty-Crocker
Summary: Dean is recovering in the hospital, and a new person is moved into the bed beside him. There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with Castiel, save for a nasty cough and a few relapses of depression. Slowly, Dean begins to fall in love with him, the man who refused to be put in hospice care.
1. Chapter 1

_-I don't know a lot about hospitals so please let me know if there's something I should fix_

_I don't own Supernatural or the characters-_

Chapter One

Dean shuffled into the cafeteria, having shrugged off the nurses. He was recovering, and could walk fine on his own and go wherever he pleased. It was a big room, though quiet. Not a lot of patients at Regious Hospital were well enough to move from their beds, and the employees never talked much while away from their patients.

Dean tried to ignore the cold that bit at his skin through his hospital clothes as he slipped into the line with an empty tray in his hands.

Although he walked with his head held high, Dean hated everything about himself. His brother, Sam floated to the front of his idle mind. With a sharp pang in his chest, he could still see -unexpectedly vivid- the look of disappointment on Sam's face when he came to see him just after he woke up.

"You can't keep on like this, Dean," he had said with exasperation "you're going to end up killing yourself, man." He had then gone on to tell him that he and Bobby had decided to detain him there and enroll him in the recovering alcoholic's class here at the hospital every Thursday at eight until he made a full recovery and went six months sober. This was month two. Still four to go. T couldn't come quick enough.

Dean picked out a carefully saran-wrapped ham sandwich, a little carton of applesauce, like the ones they handed out in school, and a slice of pecan pie. A complimentary coke -Dean wasn't allowed anywhere near alcohol of any kind, or he would have gotten a beer- came as well. He sat down, alone, at one of the tables. As he ate, he looked around, taking in the faces, the people around him.

Dean gave a shout as cold chocolate milk spilled onto his clothes. He jumped up, his arms outstretched at his side. A guy was picking himself up from the floor quickly.

"Oh my God I'm so sorry," he exclaimed. He took a few napkins from the floor and handed them to a disgruntled Dean.

"What where you're going, buddy," he said, barely containing a glare as he mopped helplessly at his clothes. He finally looked down at the stranger in front of him. Blue eyes stared back, apologetic and earnest.

"I really am sorry. I tripped," he added. His face was flushed as he went quickly away, head bowed.

Fornwing and sitting down again, Dean ate his lunch, trying to ignore the stickiness that had settled into his hair and clothes.

He went back to his double room -it had been empty for a long time, not that Dean minded- and grabbed a new pair of clothes from one of the cupboards. He went into the bathroom and changed, quickly washing his hair out. He went back into the room, but stopped when he heard coughing coming from the other side of the curtain. He went to it, pulling it aside to find the blue-eyed guy from the cafeteria.

The coughing subsided and he brought his face away from his arm. His cheeks darkened slightly.

"Oh... I didn't know it would be your room they moved me into," he said a little sheepishly.

"Yeah... uh, hi," Dean said. Blue-eyes extended a hand.

"I'm Castiel... but most people just call me Cas. Sorry again for spilling my milk on you." Dean frowned slightly, shaking his hand.

"I'm Dean. And it's not that big of a deal." The Winchester went back to his bed, sitting down and turning on his I-Pod. The curtain was pulled back not even two minutes into 'You Rock Me All Night Long".

"So uh... how long have you had the place to yourself?" Cas asked. Dean took out his earphones, hoping this encounter would be brief.

"About two months. The last guy got out not long after I was moved in." Cas started coughing heavily. Dean pursed his lips.

"Hey, buddy, you okay? Want me to call the nurse?" Cas shook his head, holding up a finger. After a moment, he took a breath.

"No, no, I have a-" he gestured to his face and throat area. "A thing," he finished, rasping as more coughs forced him to double over. Dean waited for Cas to ask the inevitable question : "What are you in here for?" but to Dean's surprise, he didn't, which he didn't mind one bit. After all, kidney failure due to alcoholism wasn't on the list of glamorous reasons to get sent to the hospital. Since Cas didn't ask, neither did Dean. They fell silent and Dean resumed his music. Cas read a book.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

A week passed and Cas had continued to make attempts at conversation with an all-butt unresponsive Dean. Though, the black haired man man began to pull the former alcoholic out of his shell. Sometimes Dean would catch Cas staring, though as soon as he noticed the Winchester watching, he would avert his eyes.

Cas was always asking questions, but as soon as Dean tried to do the same, he'd immediately turn it right back around on him. He'd answer a few, but it appeared Castiel didn't much like talking about himself.

Dean was eating some breakfast one morning as Cas took his pills for God-knew what.

"How you feeling today?" he asked as he swallowed some waffle. Cas shrugged, downing his complimentary glass of water.

"No better than usual," he replied, "you?"

"About the same." Dean reached over the side of his bed and pulled out a deck of cards.

"Know how to play poker?" he asked, moving over to one of the chairs. He pushed the two against a table as Cas replied.

"Yeah," he said, nodding and also standing, "but what are we better?" Dean shrugged.

"I don't have a dollar to my name so we'll have to find an alternative." Cas thought.

"Our lunch cookies," he said, grinning suddenly. Dean laughed slightly. It was the first time he had done so since he had been admitted to this damnable place. Cas started chuckling too, though it appeared that the wager he had spoken had not been his first idea. Dean didn't question him, however, as he was swept away by Cas' laugh and his smile. Dean hadn't seen him do either of those things see he had known him. At least... not like this. Not the type of smile that made Cas' eyes light up and his energetic and surprisingly lively laughter fill the room.

Dean wet his lips as their laughing subsided, looking down at the table.

"Is it a wager then?" he asked, looking up again with the smile still playing on his face.

"May as well be, it's not like we have anything else to bet." Dena extend his hand.

"Right." Cas shook it and Deann dealt.

As fate would have it, by the time lunch rolled around, Dean owed Cas three cookies. They sat together in the cafeteria, and this had been the first time they had interacted outside their room.

"You know, to tell you the truth, Dean," Cas began, not looking up[ as he played with a straw, "I have never been happier during my stay here." Dean raised his eyebrows, flattered.

"Really? You didn't have anyone else to talk to?"

"No one other than the nurses. My family doesn't come to visit much. Too busy doing their own things."

"That sucks, man," Dean said quietly, "if it makes you feel any better, neither does my family... what's left of it, anyway. Sam and Bobby are still pissed." Cas nodded, sighing softly.

"Family is supposed to come before anything else and... sometimes you're the only one who sees that, you know?" Cas said somberly. Dean bit his lip, heart sinking at the sight of his friend upset.

"Not like I blame them, but..."

"Hey enough of the depressing crap, huh?" Dean said as optimistically as he could while he took their now empty trays and shook them over the trash can, "are you allowed outside?" Cas rolled his eyes slightly, standing as well.

"Of course I am," he said. Dean motioned with his hand as he rushed form the cafeteria. Castiel followed him closely.

As they emerged from the hospital and into the garden, Cas looked upwards, eyelids sliding shut. He smiled so genuinely it seemed as though he hadn't seen the sun in years. Dean found himself staring at the other as they stood among the roses in the peaceful afternoon.

"I love this time of year," he all but whispered, looking down at Dean, who had sat on a stone bench.

"You learn to appreciate these things when you're... in the hospital, you know? I haven't smelled roses in a long time."

"Cas... how long have you been here?" Cas seemed to snap out of his daze, obviously having said more than he intended to.

"Just a year or two. Hm. Seems longer..." Something tugged at Dean's mind. Some kind of warning bell, though he couldn't place a cause. At the same time, his heart beat started seeming louder and heavier than before, though not in a way that would suggest a health problem. It was familiar, but its memory was long ago and blurry, from a time that had been wiped away with alcohol.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Dean was pulled from his thoughts by Castiel.

"Dean? Dean are you alright?" he asked, touching his shoulder, "should I call a nurse?" Dean blinked and looked over at him.

"Huh? Oh, no I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

"What happened there?" You blacked out for like, a whole minute!" He shook his head, smiling at the concerned Cas.

"Jews thinking about something. But, anyway. What kind of stuff do you like to do?" Cas thought for a moment, watching the bees fly by and hide themselves among the flowers.

"I do a lot of reading, and I used to do some charity work though I never had much money, what with working for the school board.

"you were a teacher?" Dean asked, somewhat incredulously. He definitely didn't look like the teaching type. Cas nodded.

"Yeah. I used to teach a religion class at a high school, but had to quit when my stay at the hospital became permanent."

"are... are you a spiritual guy, then?" the question was cautious; Dean didn't want to piss off the only person who had show him kindness in three months of blank stares. Cas snorted.

"I used to be... not anymore thought."

"Can I asked what changed your mind?" Even though Sam was religious, and his parents as well, Dean never found much sense in it.

"When I came here, seeing all the sickness, the sadness, the death... I thought to myself: what kind of a God would leave so may souls alone? Why is it, that a man who is said to love so deeply is willing to end so many lives early, and is so willing to banish a person to an eternity of suffering for things beyond their control? My family is heavily religious, but... I started seeing the improbability of it all... and the unfairness." Cas' eyes were far off, like he had completely forgotten that the Winchester was there. Dean watched, intrigued. He hadn't seen Cas like this. And in the sunlight under the August sun, with the smell of flowers around them, Cas looked almost... angelic. His blue eyes stood against his skin, which was nearly white in comparisons. Dean caught himself thinking about kissing his light pink lips, which looked so soft, and he was sure they'd feel good against his own. Cas blinked at the moment, and his gaze returned to Dean.

"Yeah, I never saw the sense in it either," Dean said slowly. Cas met his eyes. The black-haired man was the first to break eye contact as he checked his watch,

"It's time for my pills. We should go back inside." Dean nodded as feeling returned to his muscles. He stood slowly and followed as Cas re-entered the hospital and went up to their room. Dean turned on the crappy day-time TV as Cas settled back into his bed, a notebook nestle into his knees.

"Are you a writer?" Dean asked, watching him. Cas shrugged.

"Not really... this is just..." he shrugged again and trailed off.

"Would I be able to read it?" Dean asked. Cas smiled slightly, but didn't look at him. His hand cease moving, the pen coming to a stop.

"Maybe when it's finished," he said. Dean raised his eyebrows. Cas was acting strange, but Dean decided to leave him be. Whenever he tried to get a peak at his composition book, he'd hide it and glare playfully at Dean.

"What is it? Gay pron?" he asked, grinning. Cas rolled his eyes.

"No," he said, scoffing slightly, "you'd love to read _that_ wouldn't you?" Dean grinned wider.

"yes, every straight guy's dream: to read about two guys blowing each other's asses out." Cas frowned. It seemed as though what Dean had said had disheartened Cas slightly.

"Sorry," he said, frowning as well, thinking he had offended.

"It's not you," Castiel said softly.

Later, as Dean was returning from dinner, he saw Cas arguing with one of the nurses, his notebook clutched tightly to his chest.

"No!" he whispered, "I have to consent and I don't! I don't care how long-" they fell silent as they noticed Dean, Cas stopping mid-sentence. The Winchester raised an eyebrows.

"Sorry about that," Cas apologized.

"What did she want?"

"Nothing important." He sat down on his bed and Dean sat across from him. The notebook in the other man's hands was tattered and looked like it was nearly full.

"Been writing?" he asked, nodding to it. Cas shrugged.

"Yeah... a little. It should be done in a few months..." Cas was distant, like there was something on his mind and he just couldn't get it off of it.

"You okay?" he asked in slight concern.

"Yeah.. actually, I have something to tell you." Dena's heart sped up as a thousand and one ideas ran through his mind.

"What is it?" he asked slowly. Cas set his notebook down and sat beside Dean, who was surprised at the closeness. The Winchester looked down at him, raising his eyebrows.

"You're the first and only person to have even spoken to me since I came here... you've shown interest in me, and not to mention uh... you're really hot... but... yeah, I like you." Dena was speechless and he felt heat rise on his face.

"Y-you do?" he asked in disbelief, voice barely rising above a whisper. Cas nodded, blushing deeply now as well.

_A/N: Sorry about the long delays between posts, I have a lot of homework and things occupying my time, but I'll try and post as regularly as I can. Thanks for all the support 3_


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